Tempest
by Wedjatqi
Summary: John loses his temper with Kanaan, and it sparks off some changes between him and Teyla. Short stand alone fic, written for beya secret elf christmas challenge. JT


This fic was written for the Beya John and Teyla Secret Elf Christmas exchange 2009 – it is a small stand alone fic.

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**Title: Tempest**

The anger simmered, making him feel hot and uncomfortable, like it was boiling up under his skin. But he remained unmoving, standing looking out at the waves outside. The view did not calm him though - in fact the wind that vibrated against the glass window seemed only to reflect the violent aggression inside him. The swells of the ocean's waves reflected the rising and tumbling of his anger and his struggling attempts to control himself. The control was only half-hearted though, barely restraining him from punching something, but it was there and it kept him still.

But the rage still boiled up inside and he dove into it, swimming through its crashing and surging waves. Vainly he attempted to focus his mind away from the urge of violence, but found himself far too quickly turning back to recalling the sounds and feelings.

Above him the lights flickered, but he didn't notice, instead he swam willingly into the recent memories, allowing the anger to bring a vibrant intensity to the details. The tightness of his balled fist as he had walked towards the man, smiling at first to lull the guy into false security, and then John had let his fast fist fly. He gloried on the remembered feel of Kanaan's jaw under his knuckles. The sound of breaking bone and broken teeth were perhaps more borne of fantasy than the reality had been.

The lights flickered again, and if he had been in the corridor outside he would have seen all lights flicker and die. But the lights in his quarters stayed alive, burning with anger, flickering only as he replayed the fantasy once again. How Kanaan had reacted with his own anger which had been a superficial covering over the regret and shame beneath. John had seen it, even if no one else had.

Something sparked across the room, but he didn't see the light die, instead he was back shoving the Athosian man to the floor of the Gate room. It had been good until the others had restrained him. He would have liked to have punched Kanaan again, maybe kick him through the Gate – that would have been good.

The light above his head brightened, and he saw his reflection clearly in the window before him. He saw the balled up fists crossed over his chest and the dark frown creasing his face.

The light grew brighter and finally he noticed that it was the last remaining light source in his quarters. He looked up to the light, wincing against the bright shine, the glare penetrating right into him, as if it were like the pain and anger itself.

Then it burnt away, the light shutting down with the faintest hiss from above.

His room plunged into complete darkness, save for the touch of moonlight from outside.

The door slid open behind him and he thought maybe he had missed the call of chimes before. He didn't want to speak to anyone.

Movement behind him told him someone had entered his quarters and the doors slid shut behind them.

The soft approaching footfalls couldn't belong to Ronon or Rodney, but he still didn't turn round.

Her hand on his back was a shock and he almost flinched away from it. Every touch recently had been of restraint, whether that was from outside or from inside – from those holding him back from his fight, or from his own restraint on his desires. Now there was only the prospect of the anger fading and he tried to hold onto it. Embarrassment lay in its shadow.

Her body rested against his back, her cheek against his shoulder and he thought he felt a shiver in her breath across his jacket. His vision shifted, leaving the swells outside, and his internal focus turned as well, now stretching out towards her pressed closer than ever before.

Part of him resisted, angry at her despite his desire to defend her. Blame was as dark as his room, but it was focused outward when it should be addressed within him. He drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh, his eyes squeezing shut.

He released one fist and reached across himself to grasp her wrist where her hand lay on his upper arm. He pulled her gently, surprising himself, as he turned to her. Never would he have done this before and he was astonished that she didn't pull away from him. He boldly pressed his face into the side of her throat, within the curtain of her hair, and sighed again. As he drew in his next breath it was filled with the scent of feminine forces and the anger faded just a little bit more.

Her hands slid into his hair surprising him and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, resisting her pull to see his face. He gripped the back of her smooth neck instead and pulled her closer, and her head dropped back exposing her neck. He pressed his lips to her skin and wished that he could have had this himself. That he hadn't exposed his desire by reacting the way he had. That he hadn't flung that fist. That Ronon hadn't purposefully turned away as John had neared Kanaan.

Her skin tasted earthy and tempting, and he wondered if Kanaan would miss it and was glad that he probably would.

Her nails grazed against his scalp, tightening, and he wished that he would be able to understand her a little better. Maybe he could have avoided all this, could have stopped himself before all this had happened.

If only he hadn't realised so late how much he had fallen for her, how much he had wanted to taste her like this.

He pulled his lips from her skin, his eyes breaking open to look down at the shadows of her neck and collarbone. The shadows shifted, drawing his eyes lower and he watched the play of moonlight as she pressed against him and he felt the subtlest play of hardness among the softness of her chest. The sharpness of her grip had turned into a tight clench in his hair and he swept his gaze up the curve of her throat to her lips, which opened with a heavy breath. He held her tighter, moving towards the lull of her lips, licking his own in thirsty need. Her breath was hot over his damp lips and it tasted faintly sweet as he followed it with his mouth, touching his lips to hers. The plumpness of her lips compressed against his and he heard her murmur from her throat.

He grasped tight fistfuls of her clothing, restraining himself and pulling her closer. Her body pressed against his, from his knees to his shoulders, to their mouths. Her taste filled his senses now, the sweetness new and desperately addictive. He crushed her closer, his arms around her, bowing her backwards as he licked deeper into her mouth.

Her hands surged up his back, griping the back of his collar and he felt the chilled air against his newly exposed back. He moved forward blindly, stepping through her legs and she moved with him. He had no idea where he was going, but then she was dropping away from him, softness against his hands as her back rested down onto the mattress of his bed. He kept moving forward, lying over her, covering her completely, pressing himself to her entire body as if to stamp himself upon her.

Her hands were a smooth stroke down his spine and then under his waistband, pulling him even closer, even more intimately.

He drove his hands under her clothing, seeking out flesh and heat, and she lifted at his touch as he pulled her free of all the fabric wrappings. Smooth skin and goosebumps mixed across the landscape of her body as he exposed her to the air, spread her legs and pressed her deeper into the mattress beneath them.

Her mouth was hot and wet along his jaw, around his ear and down his throat. Her hands were urging and demanding down his sides as he pushed his way into her body. Her legs lifted and widened around him as he pressed his chest down against her breasts, her gasps of his name powering the movement of his hips.

He sought out her lips again as she cried out, a groan from deep inside her, and he felt her begin to squeeze him. He licked her lips, panting into her open mouth as he moved with her, eyes closed at the tightness of her around him. Her nails, arms and legs surrounded him, all capturing him further, and he pushed against them using the resistance to hold onto the precipice. Until it broke.

The violence of anger, of passion, of love, all broke as the lights above them flickered to life. His head thrown back he looked up at the light suddenly blazing above the bed, the shine sharp and as undeniable as the sweep of release throughout him.

The swell reached its highest tide and began to retreat away, leaving behind the weakness of exposure and relief.

He rested down into the soft warmth of her arms and body, all surrounding him and holding him steady as his breath struggled for control and his heart hammered to escape.

She breathed rapidly beneath him, the shifts of her skin and flesh against him maintaining the intimacy beyond his normal boundaries.

Her hands, soft through his hair, slid down across his cheek, the pads of her fingertips tracing down his nose to his lips and chin. Still heavy with exhaustion, from the release of both passion and anger, he could not move except to flatten his hands to her sides, her skin smooth under his tiny caress. When he could move further, he slid one hand beneath her, holding her to him as he nestled his cheek further against her chest.

The two of them growing still in silence and darkness.

Her body was comforting in its presence and its enfoldment of his.

He had no words for her yet, wonders what they will be when they do arrive, but now there are none. She seemed in no hurry to speak either, her breathing contented under half his weight as her hands stroked lazily up and down his back, over his side and hip. Her touch was soothing and somehow wistful, and he decides no words are needed yet.

He adjusted himself over her, covering her a little more, and he feels the subtle lift of passion again. Passion building, not from anger or frustration, but from her touch and from the way she hums deeply as he brushes his lips against the swell of her breast.

He wonders if the moment will last beyond the darkness around them, but that does not stop him from stroking his hand up her side. Does not stop him from this time reaching for what he wants and she grants him what he desires. Her chin sliding over his temple, her lips pressing against his cheek and he pulls her with him as he rolls onto his side. She rolls with him staying pressed tightly against him, her leg around his hip, her fingers in his hair and her lips touch his with eagerness.

This may only be as long as the darkness remains, but he surrenders to it, submerging himself into the full feeling that overwhelms all thought.

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END


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